


toss me a bone

by shwarmi



Series: I (Under)Fell for You [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: 18+ Years Old Frisk, Adult Frisk, Agender Frisk, Alternate Universe - Underfell, F/F, F/M, Flirty Sans, Frisk Has Issues, Frisk POV, Frisk Uses Sign Language, Frisk is a Sweetheart, Frisk's Pronouns are They/Them, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Genderfluid Frisk, Genderless Frisk, Love Confessions, Mute Frisk, Mutual Pining, Other, POV Frisk, Pining, Pining Frisk, Pining then Confession, Reader Is Not Frisk, Sad Frisk, Sans Makes Puns, Slow Romance, Underfell, Underfell AU, Underfell Flowey, Underfell Mettaton, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, great now we need to kinkshame the human too this list just getting tOO DAMN LONG, puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 21:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6166882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shwarmi/pseuds/shwarmi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being mute, Frisk pays a lot of attention to hands, especially when they're signing something to Frisk. But, since Frisk is mute and not deaf, that sort of thing rarely happens and Frisk usually is just a part of one-sided Sign Language, one-sided Speech conversations.<br/>Which is why, when Sans, with hands with dips and chips like a heartbeat, starts signing out of nowhere, Frisk can't help but feel... normal. And being in Underfell, that's a near impossible feat.</p><p>Alternatively titled: "The Numerous Times Sans Tried to Subtly Flirt Until He Gave the Fuck Up"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the actual story

**Author's Note:**

> YOU GUYS ARE SO SWEET, I LOVE EVERY COMMENT AND KUDOS MORE THAN I LOVE MYSELF (and i do love myself quite a bit),, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ENCOURAGING ME TO WRITE A SEQUEL  
> psa: first, no more sequels to this though. second, creating series titles' are HARD, gimme a break on my half-assed looking attempt; it actually took a good 5 or so minutes to think up. and third, this is titled There is way too fucking much italics in this story, someone needs to stop me.doc on Word Doc somebody really does need to stop me
> 
> ANYWAY same shit as last time, but lemme say it one more time for the new people  
> k quick few things going into this:  
> 1\. this is in Frisk's POV; Frisk goes by they/them pronouns; they are mute; **they are 18+ years old** because pedo shit iS NOT COOL  
>  2\. yeah Sans is like 19 - 25 years old in my head to make this less creepy hmmkay? hmmkay  
> and 3. this is dedicated to [crashboombanger](http://www.crashboombanger.tumblr.com) on tumblr cuz their Underfell!Sans voice and character interpretation of him as a whole is the inspiration behind the first piece (and kinda this piece too) which then branched into this sequel. now go shower them with love, go on now; their blog is better than my fic anyway, just gooooo

    **T** ouching Sans was like touching the heart tracer of a heartbeat monitor, smooth with sharp, skin-cutting dips and chips. I haven’t really initiated any touching with Sans, (because I kind of need my hands to talk), but I’ve felt his hands, and if his hands are anything like the rest of his body, then his whole body is practically a pair of scissors and I’m paper. And yet he is, the least dangerous pers-- _monster_ I’ve met in Underfell (well, second to Flowey), so that whole scissors and paper thing can only emphasize how dangerous the other monsters are and how dangerous they look.

    Despite never really iniating touching, we do touch a lot. I don’t remember a lot of specific moments that Sans has touched me-- though I do know that Sans has some personal space issues-- except for one.

    I was in Waterfall and had found Sans at _another_ guard post (dude they are _understaffed_ ), and I couldn’t see much except for the ground I was walking on for the longest time; it was dark from my knees down unless I was by some glowing water, and, for someone who can only talk through sign language, the dark is like a duct tape over your mouth. And yet... despite the fact that Sans _could_ talk to me (I mean, I'm mute. Not deaf), he instead was _signing_ me something.

    And, yeah, it meant a lot, even if I had less of an idea of what I was supposed to do now; it was too dark for me to see what his hands were signing, and he definitely was signing _something_ , and if I can't see him sign in the dark then he definitely wouldn't be able to understand _me_ signing _him_ something. Flowey was trying to help, trying to convince him to just speak himself I think, I wasn’t really listening. I was too focused on Sans’ hands and trying to decode the signs in the dark to pay attention. Because, hey, ASL is somewhere between the fourth and sixth most popular language in the U.S.. Anyone who goes to the effort to have a conversation in sign with me? And not _just_ talk to me? That extra effort automatically becomes my new best friend; I _love_ that kind of shit. It makes me feel… _normal_. Not being able to talk and having someone “talk” like how _I_ do.

    Anyway, I got a bit off track, sorry-- happens a lot, actually. Being mute and not a lot of people talking to you because you can’t talk back, makes you spend a lot of time in your own head; you kind of _have_ to be your own best friend. Sorry though, I’ll try to stay on track, okay? Sorry.

    Nonetheless, back to the point. Apparently, I should have been paying more attention, because, then, Sans took one of my hands. Which, normally, would be fine! But since my mind had been drifting, the grab caused me to jump, and then his grip to tighten at my movement. So I, naturally, assumed he had something important to say as he started signing into the palm of my hand. Which, by the way, I _greatly_ appreciated, most people forget that’s a possible way to communicate with ASL-using people in the dark (or if they were deaf _and_ blind), including me sometimes. It’s rare people know how to decode sign language by “talking” to their palm; I only knew because my parents had me practice how to decode it along with them in case of an emergency. So I could understand Sans, basically, but I was a bit trusty. Like I said, people normally just speak to me and leave me in the dark (If Sans was reading this, he’d be _so proud_ of me, oh m _y gawd_ ) in how to respond back.

    _ <Do you understand me?> _

    Not sure if he could see me or not, I signed back with my free hand, _ <Yes.> _

Suddenly, Sans' eyes got brighter, literally. His left eye turned a dark red color, the same as bloo-- I mean, the shirt he always wears. It was a sharp contrast to the rest of the blue scenery around us, and reminded me of the dark room from this Photography class I had back in my senior year of high school. It’s not enough for me to see much besides more shadows, but if it’s enough for Sans to read my signs, that's all that matters. I’m not sure if his palm would be able to feel me touching them since they’re bone and maybe, maybe not have nerve endings. I _doubted_ he could understand the textures of things, but who knows?

    He signed into my palm again, repeating himself, _ <Human, do you understand me?> _

    I signed again, wondering if his weird eye function is just him or all monsters and if it’s purpose is to be a flashlight or _what_. I'll admit it looked cool though. _ <Yes.> _

    And if it’s main purpose is _not_ to be a flashlight for Sans, it was certainly a benefit, _ <Good.> _

_ <Is something wrong? Why are you signing to me?> _

    I could see the shadow of a smile on Sans' face, his gold tooth shining almost as bright as his eyes, _ <Nothing’s wrong, human; I’m signing because I want to.> _

_ <Then why are you here?> _

    Flowey said something, asked something, but I was too focused and in awe of my conversation with Sans' to really register spoken words. I don’t see Sans’ lips move to answer. _ <To ask you to go out with me?> _

    My heart, my “soul” everyone kept trying to take, might as well have had a knife plunged into it. If ASL could stutter and be spoken through embarrassed flustering, I doubt Sans would have understood what I signed back to him.

_ <Sans, repeat that?> _

    There’s a pause, a significant one, and Flowey doesn’t speak nor does Sans’ lips’ move.

_ <I’m here to ask if you wanted to go with me for my lunch break to Grillby’s, human.> _

    I wonder if he felt my hand relax around his.

_ <Oh, of course, Sans. I’d love to.> _

_ <Hold onto my hand? We’ll have to take a shortcut, don’t want to lose you and all that now.> _

_ <Yeah, of course.> _

    Similar moments after that kept happening. More and more often as I got to know Underfell, as I got to know Sans. They never lasted long, just a minute or less, every time.

_ <You want to move this dumbass conversation to the bedroom?> _

    I stiffened, _ <Sans, repeat that?> _

_ <You want to move this conversation to the bedroom? ...Because this conversation could mattress.> _

    I laughed, relieved, and Sans laughed too. I laugh a lot around Sans, and as much as I _love_ his sense of humor and laughing at his jokes, I also kind of hate it? Because, see, my laugh isn’t pretty though, or at least, _I_ don’t think it is. From what I understand, if you want a _nice_ laugh, you have to have a voice, otherwise you get this breathy-wheezy sound like I do, so as much as I love Sans’ jokes and laugh at them, I _hate_ laughing. Which, yeah, sucks, but I just feel like it’s a really ugly sound, you know? But ...Sans differs with my opinion on that.

_ <Hey, human, want to hear a knock-knock joke? I’ve got another one that'll certainly ring your bell.> _

_ <No, I think I’m good; I doubt you want to hear my laugh again, your ears probably need a break; it's such an ugly sound.> _

    I chuckled but as soon as I glance away from the MTTV, I saw pure, homicidal _rage_ on Sans’ face, his breathing _hard_. And I have felt scared of Sans’ before, but never to the intensity where I feared of certain death, like I did at that exact moment.

_ <Who the flying fuck told you that?> _

    If someone could scream, growl, or put stress on words in ASL, I knew Sans would be right now with _soooo_ many exclamation points. Because, if he could (or if he'd just use his voice), I'd probably be (finally) getting a call back from Toriel who'd be wanting to see what that shouting was all about. So basically, as a result, I quickly regretted _everything I’d done_ **_ever_** _._

_ <Nobody.> _

_ <If _ _anybody_ _ever tells you don’t have the best damn laugh in all of Home, human,_ _you tell me_ _, okay? > _

_ <Okay.> _

_ <Promise me. Promise me right now.> _

    I paused, confused over how offended he seemed. _ <I promise.> _

    Those kinds of moments remind me of what a good monst-- you know what? _Fuck it_.-- what a good _person_ Sans is. He’s not perfect, but he tries _so hard_ , especially for Papyrus. And he's a good guy, I'm serious (well, most of the time), even though I know he lies quite a lot to me. I think I put up with the lies (or lack of telling the full truth) because he just... he really _understands_ me, both in our shared sense of humor and in my disability (he is literally the _only_ monster in Underfell thus far who signs back to me, rather than just translate, like Flowey). I’ve met like two people who do that outside of my immediate family, and they forget to do that half the time, and when they remember? They usualy sign _and_ talk to me at the same time. But not Sans. Which is just _so_... Jesus, the guy’s just so humble to a fault, y'know? Especially in comparison to literally anybody else, like how he keeps introducing himself as being “only knowing the basics” of ASL, but he is _completely fluent, my goodness,_ I mean, sure, he's a bit slow, _but he's fluent even though he doesn't **need** to be_. He says he learned it from an old friend, and I really wish I could meet this “Gaster” guy and thank him for knowing and teaching Sans sign language _so well_ , but, wherever Gaster was or is, Sans seems partial to never letting me know where he was so I could actually thank him. I still wish I could though, it’s really made me feel at home here in, well, Home after… after everything.

    Yeah,... after… everything... everything that made me leave the human world and… Well, I’d rather not dwell on _why_ I jumped down into Underfell. I guess, at the time I had thought… but halfway through I had realized everything could’ve been… I don’t think I could ever bare to tell Sans or the others what my reason for being here in the first place was. After all, I've always known that any human who went up Mt. Ebott disappeared; I know the stories. I always have. 

    Anyway, once, Sans told me once that the most badass of monster had the most and worst scars. I’ve always wondered if emotional ones counted. Well, not really "wondered"-wondered, but, like, I  _wished_ emotional ones counted. Because, it… wouldn’t have be a _bad_ feeling for Sans to think… _I'm_ a badass. I… I really want Sans to think I’m badass, I want Sans to like me, I really do. Whether or not if he has a lack of nerve endings that don't let him feel, I know his soul can. And it scares me shitless how much I want _his_ soul to feel about _me_ to be so similar as to how my soul-- my _heart_ feels about _him_ , and I think it’s because I don’t fully understand _what_ I’m feeling and if it’s _good_ or if he even _wants_ it and it’s all just so… _so hard and so weird_.

    But, you know what? I’m going to unlock the barrier. Which is, somehow I think, going less hard and weird than whatever… is going on with, y’know, Sans and me and stuff. Because I’m doing the barrier breaking out of pure selfishness. I'm not going to deny that. I want to go back to my original family; I want to apologize for… attempting ... _to leave_ and try to fix some of the stuff that _drove_ me to… attempting to leave; _but_ I also want Sans, Flowey, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, and Toriel with me. I don’t want to leave them, the ways how they act just… anchors me somehow. I ended up here by overreacting, and how everyone here overreacts _constantly_ , which just reminds me to think about what I’m doing and find a rational solution so I… I don’t overreact like I did last time. And last time I did was how I first got here.

    I... I haven’t really felt my Depression much here. It doesn't  _go away,_ I don't think it ever will. But... it's easier here, it's a  _lot_ easier here. I have my reason to get out of bed; I might get scared or anxious, but I never feel completely hopeless or undeserving of fighting for my soul,... for my _life_ ; and I feel _happy_ and **_loved_ ** here. Maybe that’s because it was so hard to earn it, and I didn’t get any pity-love or anything for being mute. I had to work hard at _not killing_ people, getting them to actually  _like me,_ and then they all just expect me to be able to handle any cards I was dealt with _all on my own,_ **_especially_ ** with battling other monsters, and just--

 _I want both worlds._ I _know_ it might be the worst idea I've ever had, because monsters are _super violent_ but just…?

    I’m selfish.

    I’m selfish and I’m terrible and inconsiderate and Flowey thinks I’m being a fucking idiot and I _know I am, I always have been_ , but…

_ <I just want this to work so much.> _

    Sans gave me look of shock, but his smile was still wicked, _ <That so? You positive it will?> _

_ <Yeah. 100%.> _

    Sans scooted closer to me on the sofa, and I felt both ecstatic and anxiety-ridden over the fact that Flowey wasn’t over my shoulder. He wasn’t reaching over to be snarky or be a buffer between me and Sans or... I just generally don't like  _not_ being around Flowey; he's been there for me since I first fell into the Underfell, and I think this sort of dependency around him is because I trust Flowey’s judgement. I trust it after everything we’ve been through and I trust it _much_ more than I trust myself. He’s like my Jiminy Cricket, and I guess I just keep freaking that I’m going to end up on Donkey Island or in the mouth of a whale without him.

_ <That’s a big number, human.> _

_ <That’s why I used it.> _ I tried to square my shoulders, to look more intimidating. Sans could be scary, but I’ve faced bullies that have _actually meant_ to hurt me, over gender and pronouns, over my disability, over how I look and act, and everything in-between. But Sans, as far as I can tell, entirely and always just been all bark and no bite.

 _ <Then, human,> _ Sans hands stopped for a couple of seconds, _ <let’s make a bet out of this.> _

    I froze. Any fanfiction I've ever read has never had anything _not_ Rated R come out of this kind of scenario. _ <Depends,> _ I found myself signing despite the uneven beat of my sou-- my _heart_. Sorry, I still keep forgetting I’m not exactly one of these guys. _ <What’s the forfeit?> _

_ <Nothing much.> _ Sans signed to me, and I gave him an incredulous stare, not trusting those words for a minute (would you?). _ <Aw, human, don’t look at me like that. It’s nothing much, really, what kind of guy do you take me for? Some useless _" _no-body_ "? _> _

    I don’t know what kind of sound comes out of my mouth at the, quite frankly, _terrible_ pun. _ <You can do better than that, Sans, c’mon.> _

_ <Oh, I’ll knock your socks off with one after this little wager, okay, human?> _

_ <Only if you tell me the forfeit.> _

    Sans doesn’t even hesitate, _ <The loser makes the winner the drink of their choosing.> _

    I paused, feeling even _more_ suspicious than I had without knowing the forfeit, _ <...That’s it?> _

_ <Yeah.> _

_ <Well, wait, what would you want though? I can’t make anything alcoholic like Grillby can.> _

_ <Oh, I just want some tea, human. Little lemon, honey, nothing big.> _

    I felt my shoulders relax, but I’m disappointed; I wanted the forfeit to be tame, but not _this_ tame.

_ <You don’t want to make it more interesting?> _

    Sans shrugged, all smiles, his golden tooth shining maliciously, _ <Nope. I heard from Boss that some source said humans make the best tea.> _

_ <I don’t think I can make really good tea, though? I mean, I can make tea, but not the best tea ever.> _

_ <Your best is enough, human, trust me. Now c’mon, is Mettaton going to kill that scared fucker on his show or not? I’ll pick whatever you don’t; we’re wasting time just chatting here.> _

_ <Okay, okay,> _ I signed, pouting. This was such a lame forfeit… _ <I think Icecap will be okay, in the end. Mettaton did promise to cut down on the killing after I let him go.> _

_ <Yeah, well, we’ll see, human. Icecap’s been an asshat> _ I giggled at the puny half-pun, or whatever I sound like when I'm _trying_ to giggle, _ <since he came on. I doubt that Robohost is going to even hesitate about throwing his hat in the ring> _ Another attempt at a giggle, I could tell Sans was trying to keep his own laugh inside as he kept signing, _ <and offing him.> _

    It was literally five seconds later.

    Five seconds later, Mettaton was strangling Icecap, because instead of following the game show's directions, Icecap kept talking about his hat and reluctantly answering the questions with Mettaton’s increasingly impatient prodding. Apparently the last one was his breaking point.

    I couldn’t even process what had just happened, and so _quickly_ , I could’ve blinked and had _no idea_ how or why Mettaton was strangling Icecap now of all times, and before I could even _stand_ and ask Sans for a shortcut to stop this, Icecap was released and coughing up a storm.

 _“Oh would you look at that!”_ Mettaton made a huge waving gesture with his arms, _“It appears our showtime is at an end, darlings! Ooooh, and just when things were getting good too! I guess we’ll just have to wait for Icecap--”_

 _“And my hat!”_ Icecap’s interrupted.

    Mettaton looked _so pained_ and it made me smile, he was trying _so hard_ to not kill Icecap. So, so hard. I was going to have to get him something for the next time I saw Mettaton as a thank you for not going overtime and killing Icecap. Maybe call in and have someone else translate what I wanted to say? Mettaton always got such mean calls in; a nice one would be different. Maybe it’d expand viewership? Or maybe I could go on his show again. He liked it when I did that. I’d get Flowey and everyone else’s opinion later; I'd need some help either way.

    Despite being in box form right now I could hear Mettaton’s voice straining out through gritted teeth, _“And… his goddamn fucking hat. To maybe possible die or not die for another episode!”_ He then suddenly changed to a cheery tone. _“I’ll see you in 30 seconds with the news, my lovelies!”_

    I gave Sans a triumphant look and signed simply, _ <I won.> _

_ <No way, human,> _ Sans laughed, and my chest pained for a second that he’d laugh so much at this moment and moments in the future and that I was just… forever going to give nothing but silence. Did my voice even matter? Was I ever going to make a-- _ <You really are make a difference here.> _

    And that was all it took to get me away from the Bad Thoughts™. The praise made me preen, feel really good about myself all of a sudden. There wasn't any sign that could properly translate my feelings of gratefulness for reasons I couldn’t yet explain to Sans without going in too deep. So, instead, I just signed, _ <You get to make me tea now, right?> _

    Sans smiled so both rows of his teeth showed, _ <Actually, any drink you want, human.> _

_ <Tea. Any kind of tea.> _

_ <Spider--?> _

_ <Any kind of tea but Spider Tea.>_

He made a drawling "Ugh" sound at the back of his throat, _< You're no fun, human,> _and Sans got up slowly, lazily, _ <Mind if I make myself a cup?> _

_ <Not at all.> _

_ <Cool, be back in a couple of minutes. Clap if anything cool happens for once on this stupid ass show.> _

_ <Everything about this show is cool,> _ I signed, and found myself feeling _normal_ at how Sans walked backwards, just to make sure he could read me in case I kept trying to sign to him. Most people forgot and just walked away, their back to me; those times felt like a kick in the gut more than I’d like to admit, because rarely was it ever intentional. _ <We don’t have robots nearly this advanced on the surface.> _

_ <Must be dull.> _Sans signed before slipping into the kitchen.

    I looked at the television as Mettaton performed live, talking about gossip and fluff stories and battle-related news alike. I had no idea how much time passed before Sans put my tea on the side table of the sofa we were sitting on.

_ <You missed the battle-related news.> _

_ <Anything interesting?> _

_ <The Temmies tried to conquer the Hotlands again, but Alphys stopped them, captured a bunch. I wonder what she uses them for; she won’t tell me.> _

_ <That’s it?> _

_ <That’s all you’d be interested in, unless you want to hear about the snail races or Greater Dog’s attempt at--> _

_ <You’re right, Alphys fucking shit up is all my Temmy can take.> _He signed at the same time, cutting me off. He rubbed his stomach as he did so, and I laughed for a second or two, taking and tasting my tea (any tea without spiders in it is good tea) before noticing something.

_ <Where’s your tea? Was there not enough?> _

_ <No, I just decided not to last minute.> _Sans signed and put my tea back down. I looked at him, confused, and about to sign him something against him taking it away when he suddenly put his hands in mine, intertwining and stroking the back of them both with his thumbs. The cuts in his bones were still sharp and noticeable to feel, Sans' chipped bone structure mimicking how fast my heart was beating, but the gesture was comforting and painless nonetheless. Realizing a bit late that he needed at least one to talk to me, he shifted his grip in one hand so I could feel him signing in my palm and didn’t let me break eye contact as he did so.

_ <Because I realized you’re just my cup of tea, human.> _

    And that was the first time _ever_ since I met Sans that I didn’t laugh at his pun.


	2. the deleted scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there was this part with papyrus directly in it and flowey actually being listened to in it, but it ended up not fitting because nothing else in the fic includes actual SPEECH, just sign language.  
> also, since i deleted it, i had to rewrite it, and i rewrote it in third person because i didn't wanna be bothered with writing long-ass internal dialouge like i usually do, sorry, it is currently 3AM i need sleep so much more than first-person POV, sorry not sorry xD"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was meant to happen somewhere in the middle of the frisk POV fic  
> there's no more to this series after this, i swear, i'm done now. ...i think. probably. my muse is a bitch xDx. if you're curious if i will or not write more undertale, subscribe to me as an author; this series is dead even if i do or don't write more undertale/underfell. loved it while i wrote it, but now i'm done. my muse can't change that, that's for sure haha

**“S** ANS!” Papyrus screeched.

    “What is it, Boss?”

    “The human doesn’t seem to understand sign language at all! I’ve been trying to practice signing to them, but they don’t understand! Ergo, our intel lied to us! And needs to be tortured for his crime!”

    “Uh, I’m _right here_ ,” Flowey frowned, “And my name isn’t _inte--_ ”

    Sans eyebrows rose, surprised and shocked at Papyrus’ statement, so he held up a finger to the flower, “Intel? Not the time.” Flowey groaned and leaned against Frisk's head. Papyrus was now _skull-king_ as Sans started talking to him instead, “And, uh, and what makes you think that, Boss? I just mean, _I’ve_ spoken to the human plenty of times in sign language, and they seem to understand and I understand when they--”

    “Well then, _you_ must be accidentally doing some _other_ kind of sign language! Because _clearly_ I, the Great Papyrus, can _not_ be doing it wrong!”

    Sans sighed, frustrated with his brother's tendacy to pull this kind of shit. "Of course, Boss." And glanced at Frisk briefly, looking at the human for any kind of hints as to what’s happening, so Frisk just pointed to their own hands, which was a _sucky ass hint_ because Sans did not understand it _at all_. To see if he could get more hints, he started signing the conversation to Frisk, pointing vaguely at whoever was talking before signing what was being said.

 _Uuuuuntil_ Papyrus started his attempt to sign to Sans, to show the “proper way” it was done after seeing Sans currently signing to Frisk. And Papyrus was trying to sign in his huge ass red mittens (the kind that looked like oven mitts), and Sans could understand the problem now and he tried _so hard_ (read: he did not even attempt to try) to hold in his laughter.

    “SANS! THIS ISN’T FUNNY!! HOW AM I, THE _GREAT_ PAPYRUS, SUPPOSED TO BECOME THIS HUMAN’S BEST FRIEND IF I CANNOT EVEN COMMUNICATE IN THEIR LANGUAGE?!”

    “I guess telling you to try harder then is a _mute_ point,” Sans started to laugh, and laughed even harder when Frisk started to wheeze out a small laugh as well.

    Flowey groaned loudly, tossing his head back, “Ohhhh my go-- look, _take off the gloves_.”

    Papyrus looked terribly offended that a weed just _spoke to the Great Papyrus_ , but before he could threaten Flowey’s life for his insolence, Sans interrupted.

    “Yeah, c’mon Boss, we all know you have the best hands here, might as well show them off when you want to talk to the Human, right? Otherwise, you’re just going to have to ask me or Flowey to translate forever.”

    “mmmMMMMMMM” Papyrus whined before reluctantly following the advice, “If my hands get frostbite, Sans, it _will be_ \--”

    “I don’t think it’s _s-cool_ enough for that, Boss,” Sans said, rejuvenating his and Frisk’s laughter, “It’s not… not like Snowdin is _snowed in_ or anything!”

    “HAHA, VEEERRY FUNNY, SANS.” Papyrus bit out sarcastically bitter, and tried to sign using his bare skeletal hands now.

 _ <Can you understand what it great Papyrus said, human?> _Papyrus signed slowly and clumsily.

"Yeah, I can Papyrus," Flowey translated aloud as Frisk smiled encouragingly, "It’s much easier without your mittens."

    “SANS, SANS _LOOK,_ ” Papyrus said as giddy as a villainous monster could be (which was pretty damn giddy) as Sans kept signing everything Papyrus wasn't signing (it's good practice and Frisk seemed to just _adore_ any attempt at ASL), “THEY UNDERSTAND ME!” Papyrus paused, and then straightened up, mood completely change to dead serious as he looked at his brother, "Sans, write on a post-it note to put in the torture room for me, would you? Remind me to get new gloves where I can use all my fingers to sign. And that it should be badass. And red.”

    “Hell yeah, Boss,” Sans chuckled, still weak with giggles from his own jokes too much to bother remembering to write a post-it note later. Paps never forgot anyway, he’d just tell Sans that kind of thing to remind himself. “Now you’re one step closer to being their best friend.”

    “No, Sans, not their ‘best friend’,” Papyrus corrected, making Sans cock an eyesocket, “but their _best fRIEND EVER!!!”_

    Sans wasn’t sure if Frisk was signing to Papyrus or Sans himself when he saw them sign _ <You already are>_. Flowey was distracted by the yelling too much to notice and translate, and Papyrus was too busy freaking out over this new information about humans-- “I hope they can understand me through gloves!”-- So Sans felt his soul warm and vibrate in his chest at the idea that he had already beaten Papyrus to the punch.

     "Of course, Boss,” Sans smiled, still signing as he spoke, “My mistake.”

**Author's Note:**

> kudo and comment if you liked?? (and if you comment something nice, i'll do my best to reply as soon as i can!) they make my day and encourage my muse to be nicer and more consistent with me!


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